I only pretend to have a hard life. I don’t have kids yet, although I do have a tiny terrier with a big personality; a 16-lb raccoon cat who lumps around all over the house; and a 7-lb geriatric cat who has two bad knees and the bad attitude to match. And yes, I am lucky to be able work successfully for myself, although as a passionate solopreneur, the line between my job and my couch is very thin and barely distinguishable.
And I am also the only one who cleans the bathroom and who even pretends to know how to cook. So after a long Monday, when the husband is working late and won’t be home until 9pm, I just wish that someone were there to make me a hot meal. Someone who could take the dog out for a walk. Someone who would look at me in my end-of-day torpor and recognize that I need someone to just stroke my hair and tell me I’m pretty.*
Interested? I’m hiring. Apply within. (And I won’t even make you rub my feet.)
*a long time ago, my friend, Kathy, told me this was all she needed in life. So props to her for recognizing the truth and for sharing it with me.